


Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by pressdbtwnpages



Category: Montmaray Journals - Michelle Cooper
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressdbtwnpages/pseuds/pressdbtwnpages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You know," Rupert said between bites of food that evening, "You'd be welcome at Astley for Christmas. You should visit."</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Around his own mouthful, Toby said, "Don't mind if I do."</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>And that settled it.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Most Wonderful Time of the Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thenewradical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewradical/gifts).



Toby couldn't believe his ears when Geoffrey Pemberton stopped him in the hall and invited him to a holiday ball at his family's estate.

The boy had killed Rupert's wounded bird less than a week ago and Rupert was still devastated by the loss.

"I don't think I will, thanks," Toby snapped, less gracious than he should have been.

He hurried away from Pemberton and rapidly turned the corner, nearly running smack into Rupert.

Rupert was standing stock still, craning in the direction of the hall Toby had just left. Toby wondered how much he'd heard.

He threw an arm over Rupert's shoulder, and - not even pretending to be unaware of Rupert's eavesdropping - asked, "Can you imagine attending that git's holiday party?"

"I hear his sister's pretty," Rupert mentioned, half-heartedly.

Toby didn't give two figs about pretty girls.

"What _are_ your plans for Christmas?" Rupert asked.

Toby scowled. He'd been arguing and pleading and making his very best case for going back to Montmaray for the school holiday, but Aunt Charlotte would have none of it. She had been almost harsh in her most recent letter.

"I'll be at Milford Park with Aunt Charlotte. There isn't time to get home and back before next term, not if I want to spend any time there."

They had a month off from school and Montmaray wasn't so far away that Toby couldn't make the journey in half that, but if Toby went home he'd never want to leave. He expected that Aunt Charlotte knew it too.

Rupert looked concerned. Toby knew that look. Usually the animal at the other end of that look ended up splinted, swaddled, living in Rupert's pocket and being fed from a dropper.

"Could your sisters meet you in Milford Park?" He suggested.

"Too frivolous," Toby sighed. "It'll be alright, though. Aunt Charlotte's a dear and Simon might come up from London for a day."

His cheer was forced and he was pretty certain Rupert could tell.

It hadn't been an easy term for Toby, all evidence to the contrary. Eton isn't easy on anyone, and Toby was far from home for the first time. 

They found themselves in front of Rupert's door, and, knowing Rupert was anxious to pack for the holidays, Toby followed him in rather than suggesting one of the myriad diversions he'd devised for end of term.

Toby sprawled on the bed to watch. He would pack five minutes before he was to leave, chucking all of his belongings into the trunk he'd brought from Montmaray. It had probably been Isabella's at some point and still smelled faintly of incense.

"Won't the staff at Astley manor just press everything when they unpack?" He asked.

Toby didn't know much about manor houses and most of that was from Sophie's books. He'd only spent a few nights at Milford Park before he and Aunt Charlotte had come to Windsor to drop him off at school.

Rupert shrugged. "Folding is a good habit."

Dear, simple, good Rupert. "Who wants to be good when you can be interesting?"

Suddenly revenge on Pemberton couldn't wait a moment more. Toby lept off the bed and bounded out of the room.

Rupert continued his folding.

*

"You know," Rupert said between bites of food that evening, "You'd be welcome at Astley for Christmas. You should visit."

Around his own mouthful, Toby said, "Don't mind if I do."

And that settled it.

*

Aunt Charlotte had a rather different view of things, however. Glad though she was that Toby had stopped asking about Montmaray, she'd felt that the whole point of his staying in England for Christmas was to spend Christmas with her.

Eventually a compromise was reached. Toby could go home with Rupert and Aunt Charlotte would come to Astley for Christmas Eve, after which she and Toby would spend Christmas in Milford Park as a family. And Simon.

*

Toby was unexpectedly nervous about meeting - and then promptly living with - the Stanley-Rosses and spent much of the train ride fidgeting.

"Everyone will adore you," Rupert said finally. He'd been pretending to ignore Toby's nerves, but his patience had finally worn out. "Everyone always does. But it won't matter anyway. We can go on walks or take care of the animals. There's loads to do at Astley without being bothered by anyone."

Toby laughed at that. Rupert's preference for animals over people was already a long standing joke with them.

"I know it will be alright. It's just strange being somewhere else for Christmas."

Not that Christmas at Montmaray was all that spectacular. Nothing like in Sophie's - or even Veronica's - books. Still, it was home. It was the girls and Carlos and the castle and the Blue Lady and Toby missed it more than he ever could have imagined.

The concerned look was back on Rupert's face. Toby knew Rupert would go out of his way to make sure he was having too much fun to be very sad at all.

"You've heard from your family, though?"

"Oh, yes." Toby patted his coat pocket where an ominously overstuffed envelope crinkled in response. It had started as letters from Sophie and Veronica, but they'd kept adding notes and little messages from Henry and by the time it had been mailed it had been near to bursting. "All the news from Montmaray. And I remembered to send their Christmas package. I hope it makes it in time. Otherwise they'll have New Years bacon instead of Christmas ham."

By the time they arrived at their stop, Toby was himself again.

They'd sent Rupert's eldest brother, David, with the car and a moderately attractive woman.

"This is Penelope," David introduced her. "Penny, my brother, Rupert, and his school chum, Prince, er-"

He smiled winningly and recited, "Crown Prince Tobias FitzOsborne of Montmaray. But you can call me Toby."

Next to him, Rupert stood straight and stiff, like a hen with ruffled feathers. It was exactly how he always behaved around people he didn't like.

"Montmaray," Penelope simpered. "How terribly exotic."

"It's only a small island," Toby admitted, "but it's ours. Too far away to make it home between terms, though. Unfortunately."

"Oh, poor you," Penelope cooed.

"Naturally we're more than happy to host the Prince at Astley," David interjected. 

"Toby, please," Toby insisted.

"Naturally," Penelope agreed.

"They're probably waiting for us at the house," Rupert cut in rather desperately. "Shall we go?"

*

Introductions to the rest of Rupert's family were far less odious. Rupert's sister, Julia, was wry and funny and a little bit bad. Toby liked her immediately and the two of them were already giggling together as Mr. Jones escorted Toby to the guest room closest to Rupert's bedroom.

Toby was of course the main focus at luncheon. 

David and Penelope - who, as it turned out was mercifully only spending the day at Astley - peppered him with questions about Montmaray's temperature and beaches.

"Well it isn't Monaco," he laughed. "Nothing so glamorous."

At Penelope's crestfallen look he added. "We do have a castle. Well, a fortified house. Apparently there's some kind of important distinction. Veronica, my cousin, is always going on about it."

"And do you have any special Montmaravian Christmas traditions?" Lady Astley enquired. "We would be delighted to include some in our own festivities."

"Oh, well, most of our traditions are British, my lady. Montmaray was originally settled by Cornish fisherman. And of course the royal family have been atheist for generations." Shocked gasps arose from around the table and Rupert had to hide his smile with a napkin. "The girls - my sisters, Sophie and Henry, and cousin Veronica - have always been quite fond of the Stir Up, but it's far too late to make the Christmas pudding." 

"Um, yes," Rupert's mother agreed awkwardly. "Quite."

"But I'm delighted to participate in your traditions," Toby added quickly.

"Oh, good," Julia sighed. "We'd been waiting on Rupert to decorate the tree.

"Oh good," Rupert agreed. 

*

That evening the family, minus Penelope and plus Toby, gathered in the ballroom to sip mulled wine and adorn the glowing tree with tinsel and shiny baubles.

Toby picked up a shimmering glass ball warily. It was beautiful and fragile and the last thing he wanted to do to repay Lady Astley's warm welcome was destroy her beautiful things.

"I know it's unsafe," Rupert's mother sighed, "but I do miss trees decorated with all of those tiny candles."

"Mother!" Julia scolded.

"Oh, darling, I know," she agreed. "But the little flames gave such a nice glow and the crystal ornaments caught the light so prettily."

"Lights are nice too," Julia protested. She held up a crystal bell and positioned it carefully near one of the lightbulbs on the tree. "And the ornaments still catch the light."

"They do indeed." Lady Astley turned her attention to Toby who was toying with a glass bauble. "Do you decorate your own tree on Montmaray? Or does the staff do it for you?"

He looked up, surprised. "Oh, we don't have very many trees on Montmaray. I suppose that's another Christmas tradition that's passed us by."

Sometimes they decorated driftwood, if one of the governesses were feeling especially ambitious or homesick, but on the whole Rebecca preferred they leave nature outside.  
Rupert's mother got up and hugged Toby around the shoulders. "Oh, darling! Your first Christmas tree! How exciting!"

Across the room, Toby caught Rupert's eyes. "I guess it is."

*

"He's Crown Prince of an island nation so small I doubt even you've heard of it," Lord Astley was saying to a stranger as Toby and Rupert came in to breakfast. "Ah, here they are! Might I present his highness, Tobias FitzOsborne of Montmaray."

"Montmaray!" The other man exclaimed. "Of course I know of Montmaray. I used to be quite good friends with Jane Newington."

He turned to Toby. "I was distraught to hear of your parents' deaths."

The flare of interest Toby had felt at meeting someone who'd known his mother was doused by grief.

"Thank you," he said absently, loading his plate with bacon from the sideboard. 

"Your parents are dead?" David asked. "Shouldn't that make you king?"

"Montmaray abides by Salic law," the stranger explained. "Toby's uncle, John the Seventh, is Montmaray's king."

"If Veronica had been born a boy, she'd be Crown Prince," Toby said around a mouthful of bacon. And probably should be. Veronica was smart, savvy and interested in a way princes ought to be and Toby wasn't at all.

"This is hardly appropriate breakfast conversation," Lady Astley objected. "Has Toby even been introduced to the Colonel?"

She turned to Toby. "The gentleman who knows so very much about your country is my husband's brother, Colonel Stanley-Ross."

Toby swallowed his biteful of breakfast quickly. "Please to meet you."

"The pleasure is entirely mine."

The Colonel was in and out of Astley during the rest of Toby's stay and frequently away on business.

Toby found he rather liked the man, though he found the man's rather thorough knowledge of Montmaray eerie.

*

Toby hadn't realized how much of Astley there was, and Rupert seemed determined to show Toby every bit of it.

There were the rookery and barn to explore, the woods and gardens full of hungry injured animals. There were towns to visit and snowball fights to have.

And there were dancing lessons to have.

It was Julia's idea. 

She'd needed to practice her waltz for her debutante season and needed a partner. Toby had never properly danced with anyone and thought that was perhaps the sort of thing a crown prince ought to know.

It turned out Toby liked to dance, once Julia showed him how. Even more amusingly, Rupert hated it, and sulked in the corner whenever they practiced.

So every afternoon Toby and Julia rolled up the carpet in the drawing room and waltzed and teased Rupert for refusing to join in.

*

Christmas Eve came all too soon.

Aunt Charlotte arrived for luncheon, bringing Simon up with her as a surprise.

Sitting around the table with most of his favorite people, Toby felt the warm glow of Christmas spirit. He could almost see Sophie sitting next to Rupert, the two of them talking quietly together about books. And Veronica arguing with Lord Astley and the Colonel. And Henry sneaking the dogs table scraps and chattering on to Lady Astley and David about the best ways to catch fish.

For the first time, Toby preferred his life in England to the one he'd left on Montmaray.


End file.
